


Slip (Slip Slip Through)

by OverlordWaffles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dancer Castiel, Dancer Dean, Dancing, Inspired by Music, M/M, Mild Voyeurism, Mirror Sex, POV Castiel, Public Display of Affection, Song fic, Top Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, dance inspired, music inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4702742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlordWaffles/pseuds/OverlordWaffles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel reflects on the magic of having Dean Winchester as his lover and dance partner as they preform on stage.  Inspired by this dance <br/>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qk00gbDwGqM and the song itself, "Slip".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slip (Slip Slip Through)

**Author's Note:**

> I highly, highly recommend listening to this with the song on repeat in the background.

Castiel felt it in his bones, the way nothing had come close to being this moment. Nothing would erase this beautiful moment he felt sweeping through each touch and connection of the dance. The fluid slide and grace of their well practiced movements, hours of study and bickering and struggling. 

Dancing with Dean Winchester was like nothing he’d felt in his lifetime. They had struggled through their first dances, their bodies naturally just hovering that inch too close that caused them to trip on each other’s feet, had them stumble and get off beat, like their hearts each time they met eye contact, every touch of skin to skin, heat radiating against heat, body lines swimming in their vision as they spied each others moves. Hypnotized. They were fluid now, finally understanding. 

They’d been denying it for so long, skirting around it, making their excuses. His favorite part was watching Dean’s bowed legs arched for him as his hands came in under his knees, rocking the toned body through their routine, gliding his hands down Dean’s thighs with real heat burning in his soul. The way Dean’s felt rolling over his legs and back, fitting like a puzzle piece between his arms.

The trust Dean put in him as they danced was complete. 

That was what he loved about dancing with Dean; watching him when he was on his own, freestyling his natural moves. Dean had a flow to him, a grace beneath the gruff persona. A kindness and ease with passion that drew everyone into his orbit, blinding and brilliant. 

They had found the perfect song, the magic of each pose. Perfected over months of building real trust and study of each other. He felt completely absorbed now, letting his mind free as he guided Dean’s body into each dip and lift. He loved that the dance still showed of Dean’s sneaky side still, like a quick red fox. Demonstrated his own flighty tendencies. He loved that he got to love Dean through this public dance. The lights on him made no difference, this was his promise to Dean after all this time. They were putting it out there. They knew how a crowd could read real energy when partners we bonded this deeply; Pure trust and professionalism. They had matured in the past three years, forgiven and forgiving each. 

They had been so broken the last time they danced on stage, but now they were like fluids and air, and getting to caress Dean’s body openly so the world could see how genuine it was this time. No more tension and struggle. It sparked a pride in him that left him hungry for more. 

Cas felt like the dance was built into his bones. During the last drop when Dean slid between his legs with the tigeresque smolder in his eyes was when Castiel knew it was the same for the green eyed beauty across from him. He didn’t know how he had ever thought he could live without Dean. Didn’t know how he had dared run away when he thought Dean didn’t care, possibly loved another. 

God, he barely knew the dance was over until he realized he hadn’t gotten up for the last choreographed moved. Trapped by the weight of the Dean’s stare on him, he didn’t even register the cheer that erupted around them until he saw that smile grow into a smirk and the blond was lacing his fingers into Cas’ longer dark hair and pulling him up the last few inches for a ravaging kiss. Cas felt like he was sparkling, his toes tingling, fingers buzzing where they were still against the side of Dean’s face, heart hammering. He didn’t even have to think before he was returning the kiss, deafened by the roar of the ecstatic crowd. 

Later, when they won, he would laugh and blush, unbelievingly watching the recording of the dance with tears in his eyes. It had everything about them in there. Their knots, how they ran around in circles trying to hide, trying to deny it, when all their souls yearned for was the play, the passion, the pulse. He loved watching Dean curl into the safety of his arms, vulnerable in a cruel world, alongside the strength. Each movement was like a wave, a whirlwind of Dean’s essence as Cas connected with his own more solid footing. 

He would hold Dean’s legs open wide a month later and fill him in a slow glide, with that music white noise in the background as he destroyed Dean’s sanity in their bedroom. He held him firm in his arms, against the headboard, wall, and rocked into him; caressed him inside out to the song that had brought them this close together in the first place, stretching into poses inspired by their dance. 

When Dean came later, pressed up close to the mirror of the bathroom wall, Cas experienced a new bliss. The soft way Dean’s plush lips fell open on a disbelieving, all consuming gasp, as his lids fluttered closed, his head falling back as he arched like a cat in Castiel's embrace. Dean's hands clutched at the streaked surface of the mirror as Castiel thrust in, stilled and filled him not a moment later. He was unable to tear his eyes away from Dean’s reflection. The blush of pink on Dean's freckled skin, legs trembling as his cum painted the counter top, dripping down his flushed head.

Dean would whisper back at him later how glad he was he didn’t let Cas slip away again.


End file.
